Who Wants Not To Be Forgotten
by Crimson Release
Summary: If fate was cruel enough to siphon your soul through a continuous state of existence, in one form or another, how would you feel? What if you were trapped, with half of you walking on the other side of the planet? PostAC. AUish.
1. Prologue

**Pre-Story Notes: **This is the first time I have ever attempted writing a story based on a more AU character, so forgive me if the beginning is slightly rocky; the closest I've come to something like this is within past role-plays, so, I do have _some_ knowledge as to how to develop my characters, so don't worry too much. P

**Description: **If fate was cruel enough to siphon your soul through a continuous state of existence, in one form or another, and you were aware of it even after death how would you feel? What if you were trapped with half of you walking on the other side of the planet? Would you be content to be a half of a memory that would soon be forgotten?  
Aeris has long since died and her soul should have returned to the planet years previous to the present date. Throughout an extended amount of time, her soul should have been reborn into a different form, years after the deaths of her old comrade's. However, something has gone amiss, and a part of her has already returned to the surface; but why? Who could be behind this impossible turn of events, and what will it mean for the alleged 'reincarnation'?

**Warnings: **Besides some in-character cussing, and the slight possibility of _brief_ sexual suggestions, you don't have much to worry about. PG-13.

**Who Wants Not To Be Forgotten**

_Crimson Release_

**Chapter 1: Prologue. **

Since she could remember, she had only dreamt of one person. They seemed to be disjointed memories, and pieces of familiar information. These images haunted her every night of rest, and always had; as a small child, in the orphanage, she had gotten herself into trouble a few times for refusing to go to sleep because of, she explained, the 'Forgotten Lady' who would be waiting to show her something new. They were not exactly _nightmares_, per se; they did not frighten her, but at the end of every vision, when the Forgotten Lady would place her hand, naked accept for the bangles around her wrist, on her shoulder, it left her feeling a lonely kind of sorrow, much too terrible for any one person to bear, and again, for no reason in particular.

For a long time, earlier on in her childhood, she had dreamt only of glass and white light, as well as a harsh male voice that spoke from outside the invisible boundary. Bubbling, and crackling; the sound of a finger tapping against a thick layer of glass. These were the sounds that haunted her throughout her early childhood. Some of her dreams were very involved; the colour's intense, and sounds deep. She had often woken up with her ears ringing, or temporarily blinded, or tasting something, or hearing the voices of so many forgotten ghosts echoing in her mind.

As she grew older, she saw different things, some in black and white, some in slow motion, and sometimes a fast surge of information would rocket across her brain and beneath her REM strained eyelids. Just a few nights ago she had been so overloaded by the dream she had that she could not get out of bed till late in the afternoon. It had been a very quick manifestation of the past, in some part of the former Midgar – she assumed this because of the perfect image of a train with a glistening bronze plaque which listed the serial number, make, and location of the Shin-Ra Inc. vessel.  
A wail which resonated off every wall, post, and seemed to reverberate in the very air tore her attention to a little girl who looked very much like a younger version of the Forgotten Lady, clutching desperately to an older woman in a colourful dress. Both females had identical hair colour, a soft honey-tinged mahogany, as well as matching emerald eyes which were bright with some strange light, different from mako, but not exactly normal, either. While it isn't much to be described, the sounds and the voices of so many, although the platform was deserted except for herself, the train operator, and the Mother and child, was so overwhelming, that she had suffered a terrible headache that kept her from getting out of bed.

For nearly sixteen years, bits and pieces of these alleged 'memories' had snared her dreams, and every night, the Forgotten Lady, with skin so soft and cool, would lay her hand atop her shoulder, always on her left side. They would stand on sandy bank just before a stagnant lake, Surrounded by odd structure'S and vegetation, but so deep and clear, it seemed to go on forever, completely undisturbed. It was on the surface of this lake that she was shown these strange enactments of a life once lived, although it seemed to her that she had plunged deep within their glowing image, on more than one occasion.

Tonight, a flickering image of deep, impenetrable forest shone up into her eyes. The branches were tall, and tangled, and a lighted aura seemed to shine from every living appendage in the scene. The Forgotten Lady spoke wordlessly up at her, wearing a button-down pink dress, and red pull-over jacket. Hair that matched her mother's in length and colour now, was woven in a twist, and held securely in a bulging, pink knotted ribbon. The bangles she wore slipped over her wrists, and jingled silently as she moved, disappeared, and reappeared.  
Somehow, she knew that she was viewing a dream within her dream, and that this dream did not belong to her.  
A man fell from the treetops, along with the pretty girl in pink. At the sight of him, The Forgotten Lady, standing just behind her, reached out and dropped her hand on her shoulder; but instead of the gentle weight of her hand, which was barely there every night, she squeezed her through the shoulder of her night-shirt, as if it had hurt her to see him. The disturbance of the nightly routine they had shared for so long startled the living occupant, so much that she almost looked away from the projection.  
The vision faded away into nothingness after the Forgotten Lady on the screen had run towards the light, leaving the blonde man looking desperate, locked in an immobile chase after a man with a billowing, black cape.

It would be about this time that the entire dream would fade away, with only the lingering sensation of the Forgotten Lady holding tightly to her shoulder, but the scene did not dissipate. The water, now free from the images of the past, lay still, and the woman standing behind her made no move. In the real, present world, the sleeping girl would be thrashing about in her small bed, with her eyes rolling back and forth violently beneath her lids. The Forgotten Lady still did not move, but her grip on the other lessened slightly. Precious moments passed, and finally, the delayed end of the strange dream seemed close at hand. As the nameless dreamer prepared herself for wakefulness, she gasped at the sudden icy feeling all around her, as her body froze with the chill of death; the Forgotten Lady had spoken, for the very first time, and the echo of the Cetra of years past, screamed and sang and whispered along with her, four simple words, that toppled the girl into wakefulness so abruptly, she fell from her bed.

"Bring Cloud to me."

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Author's Notes: A strange story that I just barely thought up. I had to get it down quickly, for fear of losing what I needed. I'm usually not very fond of AU characters, but the story behind this was so very involved in my mind, that I decided to give it a try.

I'll try to remain a bit more diligent with this story than I am with most of mine, but I would appreciate the insistence of readers who review. Tell me what you think, and how you think I can improve. Toss ideas at me, if you like.


	2. Seventh Heaven

**Who Wants Not To Be Forgotten**

_Crimson Release_

**Chapter 2: Seventh Heaven. **

With Meteor long since gone, and the Star-Scar Syndrome crisis averted fourteen years previous to the present date, life had swiftly changed and settled. As all that can be expected of human nature, the planet had, again, been taken for granted in the wake of prosperity – though, to their credit, not as severely as it once had been. Midgar, which had been decimated by a power akin to God's wrath, had been rebuilt over time. This Neo-Midgar had been built over the corpse structures of the conveniently forgotten society, with small monuments to the past that few ever truly understood, and a reformed Shin-Ra rising up to redefine the legacy of the crumbled political monarchy.  
While it would seem unlikely that the long abused populace would allow the Shin-Ra to claw its way back into power (which, in reality, had not been easy for the corporation.), after much debate and consideration of the national inconvenience of a world without mako, or to be more exact, _power_, it had been decided that the Shin-Ra could research and develop a new source of power that would not be so detrimental to the planet, environment, and the people; mako reactor's forgotten, hydro plants and wind mills quickly became a renewed, and surprisingly efficient power source; with the harnessed powers of the elements, man accepted the planets gifts and developed a power within electricity.

The Shin-Ra building had been risen and finished nearly four years to the date of when its predecessor had been demolished. With similar blue-prints, the skyscraper was nearly identical to the memory that so many had wanted to forget, or denied being associated with, right down to the reactors that circled the premises. The only difference was, with the land cleaned up and the fair bit of time to recover, the area surrounding the capital had become less imposing. The dark, poisoned shadow that had hung around the city had lessened gradually; some insisted that there was always a visible difference with the passing of each day. One could label them as unrealistic optimists, but it was very true that the land had finally begun to heal.

Just a few miles away, the people in Kalm had settled and accepted the growth of the industrial giant that hung over the horizon; the apparent reform of the Shin-Ra, and the humble attitude of the young, and once presumed dead president, Rufus Shin-Ra, was enough to reassure the majority. The dashingly handsome man, who many had once considered a boy standing in his Father's shoes, had been able to bow his head, and in the name of so many that had been damaged by the Shin-Ra – The victims of the collapse of the plate in Sector 7, the townspeople of Corel, and so many others – had assured everybody that he, himself, would make sure that the company would not make the same mistakes again, and offered his most sincere apologies on national television. Under the roof of Kalm's renowned Seventh Heaven, a barmaid and an ex-SOLDIER, both victims of the former Shin-Ra, had watched with some reluctance but had eventually accepted the reform of the 'ghost' president. After so many years, they had been not yet received much of any reason to doubt the president's claim.

Over the years, Tifa had received a few letters from her comrades, addressed to both Cloud and herself. Surprisingly, Vincent had been the first to give any sort of notice as to his adjustment; he had sent a short note saying that he had located Lucrecia and had told her the truth of all that had happened, and nothing more.  
Yuffie had later sent her regards, and had invited the couple to visit her in Wutai anytime they liked, with a promise of no renewed mischief.  
Barrett had kept in regular contact, mostly, but his letters had lessened some after the rise of the Shin-Ra; one of his last had been to inform them of the new Shin-Ra program in his hometown. Corel, once tarnished and broken by the Shin-Ra, had not been quick to accept the new program. But, with some assurance and a tightly-knit contract, a wind industry was built, and the ruined coal mining town had been rebuilt. Following this, Tifa had only received a few follow-up letters from her AVALANCHE brother-in-arms, and a few from Marlene, when her Father had been too busy to write.  
Red XII, now known as Nanaki, son of Seto, after resuming his original birth name, who, for obvious reasons, could not write a letter on his own, had paid Tifa and Cloud a short visit some years previous to the present date, and had assured them that Cosmo Canyon had recovered from the loss of Bugenhagen, quickly enough. It was no surprise to anyone that the Shin-Ra had extended its network as far as the midday Canyon, and that Nanaki was now in charge of monitoring the healing process of the planet via his grandfather's observatory machine. It was this that had finally put Cloud at ease with the Shin-Ra. Rufus had taken an interest in the well-being of the planet, and was being presumably careful not to upset the balance that had been restored.  
Cid had been the last to make contact, and only did so once; the old space captain had written several years ago to tell them of the renewal of the Space program, and had written a few brief updates here and there, and had also visited a few times with his spunky daughter, Hannah, who would be eight years old in April.

With so many of their friends involved in the Shin-Ra, and a friendly acquaintance with Reeve, the man who had operated Cait Sith, both Cloud and Tifa had been able to put aside their grudge against Shin-Ra, and had adjusted to their own way of living.

The Seventh Heaven was a very successful and celebrated establishment. Even in a fairly remote area, like Kalm, the guests would come from as far as Great Glacier. Modeled to match the original bar, the larger place still had it's second story and pinball machine, which could be still be used as an elevator to the basement floor; this time around, however, there was no machinery belonging to hacker extraordinaire, Jesse, or the collective mess of the boys, Biggs and Wedge. Instead, a small collection of wine and alcohol was stacked in the small, unfinished dwelling. Upstairs, a picture of the original AVALANCHE gang hung over the counter, recent enough to have a stoic Cloud, arms folded over his chest, standing beside Tifa. It only seemed appropriate that those determined faces live on in their rebuilt hideout, their smiles and courage forever preserved behind glass. Whenever Tifa was questioned about the photo, she would shake her head with a sad, nostalgic smile and say only that they too had played a part in the final battle.

Without having to be said, most of the details of their journey together had been locked away, and would not be disclosed by anybody. The public knew only the basics of what had happened: a small rag-tag rebel group had risen against impossible odds and battled continuously with the grisly secrets of the mega-conglomerate Shin-Ra Inc., and had fought and won against a haunted man, driven 'insane' by his cruel, enigmatic past, who had summoned Meteor with a piece of ancient material. The story of the flower girl, however, had been well known for some time. When Shin-Ra had filed their public report as to what had happened, the public learned of the slum-girl from Sector 5, (though, conveniently, with very little information as to why she had always lived on the run) who had been slain with her hands locked in prayer, sacrificed for humanity. While Cloud had been upset by the exposure of this private, and painful memory, Tifa had accepted the release of this information, and simply refused to say anything other than that Aeris had been a very dear friend and that her loss had been something far greater than could be described.

At thirty six years old, Tifa had changed physically changed only with softness in her figure, and a crinkle of age around her eyes. Still the slim, voluptuous woman she had always been, as far as her male clientele was concerned, she was the goddess of the taps. Her dark hair, not yet touched by the stressful gray of a collection of years under her belt, usually hung in a simple ponytail, tied at the base of her neck. Her daily attire had become somewhat more conservative, over the years, with a white tank that just barely touched the waist-line of her black skirt, which hung just above her knees; over her shoulders, she wore a black leather jacket, which was pulled short by the stretch of the material over her breasts. It was a most pleasant surprise for most to discover that even with her beauty, she had remained unmarried. Her reasons were her own, though some assumed that her marital status had something to do with the blonde man that shared the second floor with her; when confronted with this, Tifa would only laugh at this, and shrug her shoulders. She knew that Cloud was hopeless in that regard, and had not waited long. There just had been no interest in tying herself down like that. She already managed an orphanage in an adjoining building, and had all the family she needed.

The clink of her metal-capped boots sounded hollow against the hardwood floor as she maneuvered her way around the tables and chairs, to the front door, where she flipped on the neon sign in the window, announcing to the outside world that she was open for business. From five in the evening, till the chime of midnight, or one'O'clock in the morning, for Fridays, she would greet and serve her friendly guests.

A holler from the kitchen signaled the arrival of her cook and long-time friend, Johnny. Stepping behind the counter, she leaned under the overhang which separated the kitchen from the bar, and smiled a greeting to the other man. Johnny offered a smile and tied a white apron around himself, and switched on the oven's and stoves. He hadn't changed much, except that he dressed casually in a blue jeans and a T-shirt, and had a touch of gray here and there in his red hair. "Isn't Cloud here yet?" He asked, while running his soapy hands under a stream of hot water.

"Mm, not yet." Tifa said, half-standing, and half-sitting against the ledge, while wiping a few glasses with a dish-towel. "He should be at the Rez."

The Rez, or else the 'Lockheart Residences for Orphans of the Crisis' was what the orphanage was officially named, received funding from the Shin-Ra foundation, and was one of many that were designed to resemble a nice hotels to house any minors who had lost their family to the Star-Scar syndrome. Cloud spent most of his time over there whenever Tifa couldn't manage both the bar and the Rez, and helped the care workers with dealing with the children, or else was busy making deliveries on his motorcycle. That morning, he had left to check up on everyone, at Tifa's request.

The jingle of a set of bells above the door signaled the beginning of the evening, and Tifa backed up with a smile, and turned to meet her guests. The door shut smoothly, the uncharacteristic silence in the room allowing the click of the door jamb to reach her ears.

Surprise had silenced the greeting, hanging on the tip of her tongue, and had allowed gravity to snatch the curved glass in her hand, and toss it roughly to the floor. Her brown eyes widened, a familiar instinct instructed her to step back, and the crunch of glass beneath her feet snapped her back to her senses.

"Rufus," she said coolly, "what are you doing here?"


	3. Obligations

**Chapter 2**: _...The jingle of a set of bells above the door signaled the beginning of the evening, and Tifa backed up with a smile, and turned to meet her guests. The door shut smoothly, the uncharacteristic silence in the room allowing the click of the door jamb to reach her ears. _

_Surprise had silenced the greeting, hanging on the tip of her tongue, and had allowed gravity to snatch the curved glass in her hand, and toss it roughly to the floor. Her brown eyes wide, a familiar instinct instructed her to step back, and the crunch of glass beneath her feet snapped her back to her senses._

_"Rufus," she said coolly, "what are you doing here?"_

* * *

**Who Wants Not To Be Forgotten**

_Crimson Release_

**Chapter 3: Obligations.**

The shattered glass was enough to make Johnny come out from the kitchen, the look of a question forming on his lips quickly being wiped away at the sight of Shin-Ra's president, whose gaze had casually lowered to the crystal mess on the floor, beneath and around Tifa's heavy boot.

"I wondered if I might have a word..." Rufus said, raising those frozen mako eyes back up to the bar maid's face, lighted with a touch of amusement to see a former nemesis so taken aback by his appearance, even after years of an unspoken truce. When the redhead took a step towards Tifa, Rufus quickly shot a meaningful look in his direction, before adding silkily "In private." It took only a few moments, three audible ticks from the wall clock, which could be heard easily over the tense silence, before Tifa inclined her head and looked over at Johnny, who reluctantly retreated into the kitchen; once the sounds of the ovens and the food prep had begun, Rufus finally took a step forward, and was pleased to see that his advancement did not result in Tifa lengthening the distance between them even more, as she had when he had first come in.

"You seem uncomfortable." Rufus noted casually, his feelings of amusement being made quite obvious by his Cheshire cat grin.

Tifa glanced away from him, realizing herself that she _did_ feel uncomfortable, and that just by seeing him, reflexes she was sure she had forgotten had risen up within her, leaving her in this wary state. Strange that it was only today that this had happened, considering she had met with the president a few times throughout the past sixteen years, and had put aside most of her mistrust once the crisis of the star-scar syndrome had been averted. She had thought that she had forgiven all that could be forgiven, and had put most of her betrayal behind her - however, there was something about this particular visit that had the hair standing on the back of her neck - it _was_ extremely unusual, after all, for the president of Shin-Ra Inc to come knocking on your door, unaccompanied. "Old habits die hard, I suppose." She answered cooly, and consciously checked herself, trying to relax by telling herself _'All of that is over now. I'm being silly.'_

"Indeed." Taking a few steps forward (with Tifa remaining in place, no longer flinching in her stance, but obviously still not quite casual in his presence), Rufus glanced around the spacious bar, taking in the sight of it for the first time, and rose an eyebrow when he caught sight of a photograph of a bar almost exactly like this one in design, crowded with people. "So this place is a shrine..."

"It's a place of business!" Tifa snapped, her voice colder than she was used to these days, her bare hands fisted by her sides. "So if you don't mind, _Mr._ President, I'd like to go ahead and run it. My hours of operation are posted clearly on the door -" _'Where is this hostility coming from?'_ She couldn't help but wonder as she continued her little tirade, "So you are most welcome to come back _before_ -"

"She's alive, Miss Lockheart." Rufus interjected, quite casually, still examining the photograph which was full of the faces of the rebellion his father had literally crushed almost nineteen years ago.

Tifa shut her mouth, glaring over at the older man, her eyes full of accusation and bewilderment. "What?" Her voice was tense, low, and the feeling of a chill that had passed over her before washed up and down her spine once again, her brown eyes clouding with emotion and confusion. "Who -"

Finally, Rufus tore his eyes from that glass-preserved memory - _'Nightmare.'_ - to meet Tifa's questioning orbs, his icy gaze enough to silence her. He had been debating the release of this information, especially to these people, for quite some time. However, since it had been one of their own to make the discovery, Rufus had decided that it would be better to tell AVALANCHE's remainders himself, rather than let them find out at a later date, and turn their outrage against him. His reasons for divulging this strange new occurence may not have been moral or even out of kindness, but at least it was being done sooner, rather than later - an obligation to the well being of his company, which just happened to benefit these people.

"The Ancient." Rufus replied simply, his gaze unflinching, suggesting the seriousness of his claim. "Aeris Gainsborough."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hello again to any of you who might have been notified of this update. It has been a _long_ time since I last updated, and I apologize, but I'm going to try and change that. I work at a call-center these days, and happen to be in a department with a low volume of calls, so I have a bit of time on my hands, and wordpad to play with. Leave **reviews**/comments/suggestions for me, and I'll be sure to update more often. P 


	4. The Urge to Wander

**Chapter 1**: _...It would be about this time that the entire dream would fade away, with only the lingering sensation of the Forgotten Lady holding tightly to her shoulder, but the scene did not dissipate. The water, now free from the images of the past, lay still, and the woman standing behind her made no move. In the real, present world, the sleeping girl would be thrashing about in her small bed, with her eyes rolling back and forth violently beneath her lids. The Forgotten Lady still did not move, but her grip on the other lessened slightly. Precious moments passed, and finally, the delayed end of the strange dream seemed close at hand. As the nameless dreamer prepared herself for wakefulness, she gasped at the sudden icy feeling all around her, as her body froze with the chill of death; the Forgotten Lady had spoken, for the very first time, and the echo of the Cetra of years past, screamed and sang and whispered along with her, four simple words, that toppled the girl into wakefulness so abruptly, she fell from her bed. _

"Bring Cloud to me."

* * *

**Who Wants Not To Be Forgotten**

_Crimson Release_

**Chapter 4: The Urge to Wander.**

Mumbling sleepily to herself, Alex kicked her legs until the blankets that had twisted around her small frame during her restless sleep loosened enough for her to wriggle out of. Sitting up on the floor, the quivering teenager glanced around the crowded bedroom, still only dim with a minimum of early morning light filtering in through the drapes. Despite the _thump_ that had sounded when she had toppled out of bed, it appeared that none of her roommates had woken up - most of them had grown used to her dreamy misadventures, and could sleep through most of Alex's 'dreams'. Seeing as how there were no sleepy eyes trained on her, Alex hauled herself back up onto her mattress while pulling her blanket up over herself so that it hung over her head like a hooded cloak, and crouched beneath the hidden material. From beneath her pillow she withdrew black book. From the coils she plucked a black, ballpoint pen, which she clicked into use before flipping through pages, which were all obviously read and reread according to the tell-tale signs of the worn, creased edges. Once she found the place where she had left off just a few nights before, she peeked out from beneath her hooded hiding place, and was satisfied to see that there was still nobody awake or looking her way, and so she ducked back beneath the blanket and began to scribble away, filling up several pages with the description of her dream, while it was still fresh in her mind.

The collection of her dreams was an extensive one, Detailed in every aspect - scenery, sounds, colour - or the lack thereof, sometimes - And the journal was thick with these disjointed memories. Once she had finished, Alex critically scanned the pages, rereading and solidifying the memory of her dream in her own mind, as well as on paper, adding a few side notes here and there, before slowing herself down to really absorb the ending.  
_"It wasn't until tonight that I heard her voice. She sounded so young, and yet so... old, somehow. Her voice was hollowed by her own death as well as with those whispering others that I hear sometimes, and it made me feel kind of cold, all over. She squeezed my shoulder, something she also has never done before, and told me _his_ name. Cloud. But somehow, I already knew it. I just couldn't remember before now."_

A sound of creaking floorboards, which she should have heard when they began across the room, caught her attention, and she snapped the book shut, quickly shoving it under her pillow, before sitting up from under her blankets. Wide eyes gleamed in the darkness, staring her down with an agitated glare. Alex sighed, and reached down to scoop up the patrolling mouser, and stroked between it's pointed ears. "You startled me, you bad cat." The girl mumbled, and nuzzled her nose against the soft patch of velvet fur above the tabby's little pink snout, seeing that the cat had forgiven her for bursting out from under the blankets so suddenly. The kitty purred and crawled up into her lap, satisfied to keep the orphan awake by forcing her to rub around her ears and down her lean flanks. Sighing, Alex let her gaze travel around the room, not needing to count the sleeping forms to know the room was a bit too small to hold all of them comfortably. Alex lived in one of the residences founded by Tifa Lockheart, which of course was funded by ShinRa Inc. While the residences were all designed in a similar fashion, this was one of those that were overcrowded with orphans of the plague. Junon was a large city, and so had lost so many more than the smaller places, such as Kalm and Corel, to the Crisis sixteen years ago. There had originally been three orphanages maintained in the Junon district, but one had burned to the ground in a mysterious fire a few months beforehand; the newly destitute children had overwhelmed the remaining two orphanage's, making the living arrangements just a little more cramped than most of the other residences. Of course, the lost building was supposed to be rebuilt, but ShinRa had yet to authorize the extra gil needed in order to begin construction - the typical negligence of a corporate king.  
Alex had not minded the intrusion of their home as much as some of the others when a busload of children had been dropped off to take "temporary residence" alongside the rest of them in Ward 13, as she kept mostly to herself, anyway. However, as time went on, it felt like the walls were shrinking in on them whenever they were all grouped in their overcrowded bedrooms, and so like too many animals kept in too small a cage, fights often broke out, especially among the younger kids. Fortunately, Alex shared a bedroom with children between the ages of fourteen and eighteen, so there was less trouble, but the sounds of the others could be heard through the walls whenever a fight broke out, and it bothered the rest just the same.

Scrutinizing the wall clock through the predawn gloom, Alex sighed, seeing that it was as early as four in the morning. She wouldn't have had to of been up until eight. Yawning, She retrieved the journal from beneath her pillow once again and flipped to an entry she had written three weeks ago. She scanned through that one, and the next one, and all of the ones she had written up until the one she had written tonight, seeing the same hints in all of them. The dreams she had been having had been shorter lately, but they all had the same content. The path The Forgotten Lady had taken with Cloud eighteen years ago, when they had first escaped Midgar and had made their way from Kalm to Junon. A detailed path, played backwards, showing _her_ the way to Kalm.

_"Bring Cloud to me."_

It was obvious to Alex, especially after the command she had received in tonight's dream, that she was supposed to leave and find Cloud, in Kalm. For what purpose, she had no idea, just as she had no clue as to how she could accomplish such a feat on her own. There was no way she could convince any of the caretakers to escort her to Kalm - nobody would believe that an urge to wander which was fueled by strange dreams was reason enough to skip school and travel across the countryside - not to mention the money it would cost to take an airship or a boat. If she was going to do anything, she was going to have to do it herself, but how? She had no real training when it came to fighting. She seemed alright whenever she picked up something she could use as a staff, but she also knew that the woman from her dreams had preferred that particular weapon, and so that undeveloped skill wasn't exactly hers. She supposed she would be okay with offensive magic, but she had none of her own. The creatures around her area weren't all predators, but there were enough that were that shook her confidence a bit whenever she thought of trekking to Kalm on her own. Still, that wish of the Forgotten Lady had intensified to a need, buried deep in her subconscious, and she could practically feel it itching in the back of her mind. She couldn't put it off any longer.

Giving the cat one last scratch behind the ears, she shooed the disapproving animal off her lap and slid off the bed. Quietly, She snuck across the room to the closet and pulled a few things from the hangars. Retreating back to her bed, she ducked underneath her bed to pull out her backpack, which she emptied, stowing her school books under her bed. She stuffed the backpack with clothes that she needed, and lastly the journal she kept hidden under her pillow. It didn't take long to go through her personal affects, choosing a handful of trinkets that had some meaning to her, which included a piece of clouded mint coloured materia. The materia was one of her most precious belongings. Her mother had bought the materia off a shady street vendor during the Crisis; he had assured them that mastered curative materia was the only way that the Star-Scar syndrome could be purged from the body, and her mother, who was very ill by this time, had spent their savings on the tiny orb. Of course, the magic did nothing to restore her mother's strength, and she perished with the stone clutched hopefully in her hand. Alex had taken this as well as a picture of her mother and father from her mother's belongings, and was left alone in an empty house which stunk of death and disease for months, until the Crisis had been averted, and the orphanages had been set up.

Tucking the repacked bag under the bed, Alex slid back under the covers and closed her eyes, having occupied herself long enough to have let the shock of her intense dream fade from her body. She was tired, and so she fell asleep quickly enough, while thinking of her plan to run away. She fell into the dark embrace of sleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, and returned to Ajit, where the Forgotten Lady stood waiting, the feeling of her approving smile enough to chill her warm body, even outside her dreamworld.


	5. Anomaly

**Chapter 3**: _"She's alive, Miss Lockheart." Rufus interjected, quite casually, still examining the photograph which was full of the faces of the rebellion his father had literally crushed almost nineteen years ago._

_Tifa shut her mouth, glaring over at the older man, her eyes full of accusation and bewilderment. "What?" Her voice was tense, low, and the feeling of a chill that had passed over her before washed up and down her spine once again, her brown eyes clouding with emotion and confusion. "Who -"_

_Finally, Rufus tore his eyes from that glass-preserved memory - 'Nightmare.' - to meet Tifa's questioning orbs, his icy gaze enough to silence her. He had been debating the release of this information, especially to these people, for quite some time. However, since it had been one of their own to make the discovery, Rufus had decided that it would be better to tell AVALANCHE's remainders himself, rather than let them find out at a later date, and turn their outrage against him. His reasons for divulging this strange new occurence may not have been moral or even out of kindness, but at least it was being done sooner, rather than later - an obligation to the well being of his company, which just happened to benefit these people._

_"The Ancient." Rufus replied simply, his gaze unflinching, suggesting the seriousness of his claim. "Aeris Gainsborough."_

* * *

**Who Wants Not To Be Forgotten**

_Crimson Release_

**Chapter 5: Anomaly.**

Dinner had already been served, and the cafeteria was filled with dozens of children eating their dinner. Cloud liked to be at the Rez around dinnertime, because all of the orphans were happily occupied with their meals, and it gave him time to sort out his duties without being surrounded and questioned and poked and prodded at by the children - not that he didn't like the wards of of the Lockheart residences - he cared very much about all of them - Cloud just wasn't as personable as Tifa was, and as much as the children looked up to him, he knew they were intimidated by him too.

Sitting on the end of one long table, Cloud was alone except for two women who were sitting down at the other end, chatting while eating their own meals; the Rez was not just managed by Tifa and Cloud, but by a few young men and women from around the community who came in to help for a small wage. The four supervisors took shifts during the meal periods, two being able to eat during the first half hour, while the others would have the last thirty minutes to sit and relax. Cloud did not have to monitor the cafeteria, but he was constantly looking up from the stack of papers he had infront of him to survey the sea of kids.

A phone rang in the cafeteria, and one of the patrolling monitors quickly headed over to the source, and plucked the handset from it's cradle. Cloud glanced back down at his papers, continuing his perusal of the list of upgrades their residence needed, which he would send to Rufus in the morning. Again, he glanced up from the paper that now had his signature shining up at him in black ink, and noticed the caregiver motioning at him to come and take the phone. Frowning, Cloud pushed his chair back from the table and slipped the completed documents into a large manilla envelope. Tucking the package under his arm, he made his way between the tables and took the phone from the girl. "Thanks Tracey.

Yeah?"

"Cloud."

Blinking, Cloud fell back to lean against the wall, and crossed one arm over his chest, glaring a little as he responded to the cool voice. "Rufus. What do you want?"

"We require your presence here, Cloud." Rufus said simply. "Are you able to come to the Seventh Heaven?"

"Where is Tifa?" Cloud asked in a low voice, ignoring Rufus' question.

"She is sitting right here. Relax, Cloud. Don't go jumping to unfair conclusions when the past is so far behind us."

"Right." Cloud muttered, and glanced up to see all four of the youth workers gazing over at him curiously. "What is this about, Rufus? I have work to do. Tifa can tell you, I usually don't come home until -"

"This is urgent." Rufus persisted, with a hint of a smirk in his voice.

Cloud shifted his weight from one foot back to the other, and turned away from the prying eyes of almost the entire room now, and sighed. "Fine. I'll be there."

"Thank you -"

_Click._ Cloud pressed the handset back into the cradle. Nodding over to the four in the back, he signalled that he was leaving, before marching out of the cafeteria, and out of the building. His motocycle was parked out front, and he was on it and ripping along the streets of Kalm, before pulling in to parking area infront of the Seventh Heaven in no time. Although the neon sign was lit up and declaring to the world that they were open for business, there was absolutely no noise coming from inside the bar, meaning that there were no customers. Normally, Cloud would have thought this was very strange, but the two Turks, Tseng and Elena, who were stationed on either side of the front door, were reason enough to understand the lack of business. They both nodded curtly to him, and he did the same, before stepping into the bar, and shutting the door behind him.

Tifa was fine, although troubled looking, pacing back and forth infront of the bar. She looked up at him when he entered, but instead of reacting in some positive way, perhaps with relief to see him there, she bit her lip, looking very unsure of herself.

Cloud raised a brow, and turned his attention to Rufus, who was standing calmly in the center of the room.

"It's nice to see you, Cloud." Rufus began, but was quickly silenced by Cloud's interruption.

"What is going on?" the ex-SOLDIER asked coldly. He could feel something off about this situation, and knew immediately that this visit had nothing to do with the Rez, or any other comfortable issue.

Rufus paused, and glanced over at Tifa, who quickly shifted her gaze away.

"Cloud..." She said softly, her voice sounding thick with emotion. Refusing to meet his eyes, Tifa stared straight down at the floor, and twisted her fingers together infront of her - a nervous habit of hers, which Cloud picked up in an instant. "Rufus - ShinRa, well, they think that - this is crazy, but - they think that they found... Her."

"Her?" Cloud repeated blankly, and narrowed his mako-blue eyes on the fidgety brunnette. "Found 'her' who?"

"Oh Cloud," Tifa suddenly said after a hesitant pause, her voice sounding like a mixture of pain and hope and disbelief, finally meeting his eyes with her tear misted ones. "They think that they found Aeris! Alive!"

Cloud stood frozen, rooted to the floor by the ensnaring vines of so many hopes and memories. That cruel image of the flower girl being slain while kneeling upon the sacred structures that her lost race had once prayed upon flashed before his eyes, which he shut tightly, blocking out the bewildered look on Tifa's face. Instead, he saw _Her_... Lips creased in laughter, those emerald eyes sparkling with amusement and romance, all lit up by the coloured explosions that surrounded the Gold Saucer gondola - or was that a slight blush he that he remembered seeing on her face?

"Cloud..." Tifa, with her hands squeezed into fists, shifted her weight from one leg to the other, and shot a look over at Rufus, her glare warning him to keep his silence; frowning, the president pressed his lips together and continued to watch the ex-SOLDIER struggle with this strange news.

"Where is she?" Cloud finally asked, his voice sounding heavy.

"We're not exactly _sure_..." Rufus began, wondering how he could explain the one wrinkle in this awesome discovery.

"How did you find her?" Cloud interrupted, his frozen mako eyes trained solely on Rufus. Cloud could tell that something was not quite right with the situation here, and Rufus wasn't so great an actor that he could completely hide his discomfort. "What makes you so sure that it is actually... Aeris?"

Tifa looked away from Cloud, hating the trouble Cloud had whenever he had to mention her name, her gaze following his so that she could scrutinize Rufus instead. How _had_ anyone found her? If it had been an eye witness, couldn't it just be a look-alike - or worse, somebody pretending to be her? The thought of Aeris returning to them was a fantasy Tifa had turned over in her mind many times over the years, but it was just that: a fantasy. How was it possible for the dead to return to life and be exactly the same as they had been before crossing over? She understood the process of the lifestream and reincarnation, but that should take decades, shouldn't it?

Rufus shifted his gaze between the two ex-rebels, and swung his arms behind him to clasp his hands together, behind his back. "Through the observatory machine in Cosmo Canyon, Nanaki picked up a strange and familiar energy. He has been studying this energy for quite some time, and has finally determined it to be that of Aeris." Taking a breath, Rufus continued, halting the barrage of questions that would soon follow. "_However,_ there is some kind of anomaly in the energy."

Cloud narrowed his eyes, repeating. "Anomaly?"

"While Nanaki is certain that the energy is that of Aeris Gainsborough - the same energy that was picked up all throughout the remedying of the Crisis - there is something different about it... His description was that it has been corrupted, or else, that it is incomplete." Silence followed this, though Rufus could see the questions in their eyes. "This specific energy has been traced to the Junon area - however, we have not been able to pinpoint the specific location, and haven't found anyone remotely like her."

A few minutes ticked slowly by, seeming bogged down by the thoughtful silence that filled the room. When at last the silence was broken, it was not by Rufus, but by the heavy sound of Cloud's boots as he marched past Tifa, and disappeared up the stairs. The barmaid followed him with worried eyes, but did not have a chance to say anything to Rufus before Cloud returned, his heavy sword locked to the magnetic sheath on his back.

"Where are you going?" Tifa demanded, her brown eyes wide and full of confusion.

"I'm going to see Nanaki." Cloud answered flatly, and continued out onto the porch.

"Wait!" Running out of the bar, Tifa reached out and grabbed a handful of the one sleeve Cloud wore, and tugged him backwards. "You're just going to leave? _Now_? It's already after sundown, and Nanaki isn't even expecting -"

"I'll be fine, Tifa." Cloud answered, though he did not step out of her reach, turning to look at her instead.

"But what about the Rez? The bar? Cloud, we need you here. Can't you wait till morning?"  
The lack of expression that the blonde faced her with was answer enough; there was no way Cloud could sit by knowing that _she_ might be out there, potentially alone, or in danger. Tifa could see those thoughts flashing luminously in his eyes, and so she let her hand drop down to her side. Cloud hopped down off the porch and saddled himself on his motorcycle.

Rufus had joined her on the porch by this time, leaving her with the president and two Turks as company. The four of them watched as Cloud prepared himself and his bike for the ride, while equipping his choice materia.

"I'll call." Cloud said, avoiding Tifa's gaze as he fired up the engine and tested the throttle. Tifa said nothing.

"We don't know all of the details, Cloud." Rufus called out in a warning tone, raising his voice to be heard over the engine. "You may just be chasing more heartache."

"Cloud..." Tifa began, taking one step forward.

"I'm going to find her." Cloud said determinedly, before revving the engine and shooting forward and turning left onto the street.  
_'I'm going to find out what the hell is going on.'_


End file.
